


Don't Stop Searching

by 3x3



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Gen, Haikyuu!! Rare Pair Exchange 2017, M/M, borderline platonic I guess?, double endings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-09-28 05:59:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10075358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3x3/pseuds/3x3
Summary: What if you wake up one day to a world where nobody remembers you.What will you do then?Oikawa Tooru is on a quest to find himself.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pepper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pepper/gifts).



> Thank you @gleefreak97 for reading all my story ideas even when they are trash.  
> Written for my lovely recipient Pepper <3  
> Thank you so much, for requesting for these dorks in your list. Ever since I got the assignment, there has not been a day gone by that I had not thought about them; and during the time, I got to try so many new ideas, and wrote so many things for these two boys I had to create a separate folder for this pairing. I had so much fun writing about them, and I hope that you can enjoy this!!

01.

Tooru isn't in his bed when he wakes up.

In fact, he isn't quiet _anywhere_. He's just standing there, in the smack of the middle of a crossroad. He wonders how he in the world he could have gotten there in the first place.

* * *

 

02.

He doesn't remember waking up, certainly not falling asleep either.

How is it that he managed to get out of his house without consciousness?

He'll fully-clothed too, in his THEY'RE OUT THERE SOMEWHERE alien sweater and deep blue jeans. He bought the sweater a year ago, and he miscalculated his own size, and the sweater ended up being too big for him. But at times it could be helpful, like when he just wants to relax and have a nice cup of hot chocolate. The sleeves can prevent his hands from getting burned anyway.

Tooru reaches in his pockets, and frowns when he doesn't find his phone there. He goes everywhere with his phone, just in case above anything else. If it isn't here, with him, where can it be?

* * *

 

03.

His first instinct is to get home.

Thankfully he still recognizes the road. It's not too far from his house actually. It's a route he might take when he's not so eager to get home just yet after a particularly long and tiring school day.

Tooru starts heading back.

The air is a bit crisp, mixed when a tint of chilly. He shivers, hunching his shoulders in tighter, to protect himself from the cold temperature. He is seriously underdressed, wearing nothing underneath his sweater. He hides his palms in his long sleeves, leaving only the tips of his fingers visible.

It is almost spring now, but it seems like the weather hasn't caught up yet.

_One more alley away_. Tooru thinks as he quickens his step.

Then he skids to a stop.

_Something is wrong._

Because that house _right there_ sitting at the far side of the left hand corner- the doorplate no longer reads _OIKAWA_ , but rather _KIYAMA_.

He rubs his eyes in confusion. Maybe he is just too tired to see clearly.

Tooru looks again. The doorplate doesn't change back.

"May I help you?" A young female voice sounds out from behind him.

Tooru almost jumps. He turns around. "What?"

It is a girl no older than sixteen, with choppy shoulder-length black hair and piercing green eyes. She's a lot shorter than he is, but judging from the girl's look, that difference could very well be three meters and it wouldn't matter to her.

"You've been starting at my front door for a while." she informs him.

"Oh." Tooru says. "I'm sorry." He backs off o the side, clearing open a path.

The girl passes through with ease.

"あのー" Tooru calls out uncertainly. "Kiyama- _san_?"

She stops and turns her head, awaiting for whatever the man wishes to say next.

"Do you know anything about the family that used to live here? Before you?"

Maybe it was the desperation talking, but his voice sounds a bit too high, and too eager to be interpreted at calm and collected, as his words always are.

The girl tilts her head. "I've lived here my entire life. I'm sorry. " she tells him, almost apologetic. "Why? Do you know this house's previous owner well?"

"Yeah..." Tooru gazes at the front door of the building he once called his home. "I guess you can put it that way."

She studies his wistful expression for a while, before moving on. "I hope you find them." she says as a farewell.

"Thanks." Tooru calls out after her back, and watches as Kiyama- _san_ 's black hair disappear into the end of the small hallway.

Tooru remains there for a tiny bit more of a while.

He has never seen Kiyama- _san_ in the neighborhood before.

Suddenly he is at a lost.

If he doesn't live _here_ , where _does_ he live?

* * *

 

04.

Tooru scratches his head, and tries to push his troubles out of his head.

He starts his way to school.

Maybe that will bring his strange daydream to a well-deserved end.

And if he is hastening in a pace he normally wouldn't have used, it might just be a self-alerting sign to contain his panic.

It isn't until Tooru is standing right in front of school gates when he finally realizes that he's not in his uniform.

He looks down at his oversized sweater, and tugs at the long, droopy cuffs.

"What is happening?" he wonders out loud. "Am I going crazy?"

"Ooh, bad move. Once you've set _that flag_ frankly there's no way you can be completely sane anymore."

"Makki!" Tooru calls out automatically, upon seeing the owner of the voice. "How-"

"I'm sorry." Hanamaki knits his eyebrows together. "Do I know you?"

"I-"

"Mattsun." he calls out to the black-haired teen. "You think this one's a transfer?"

Matsukawa eyes him steadily. "No clue. Hello, are you a transfer? Where's your backpack? You don't look like a tourist."

"Makki, Mattsun, really?" Tooru blurts out. "This isn't funny."

The two exchange confused looks. "Who are you again?" Hanamaki asks.

"It's me!" Tooru points to himself. "Your beloved captain! Oikawa Tooru!"

The boys exchange another look. "Doesn't ring a bell. We're sorry." Matsukawa supplies. "'Captain'? The only captain we have is of our volleyball team. Iwaizumi Hajime. The captain of the Aoba Johsai volleyball team."

"Iwa-" he stops mid-sentence, flinching back.

"Hey. Are you okay?"

_This is wrong. Everything is wrong._

Tooru give them one last look before tearing away and sprinting down the lane.

* * *

 

05.

They've done a similar prank before: Hanamaki and Matsukawa. On Tooru's eighteenth birthday, they had the whole volleyball team on it. They ignored Tooru the entire day, acting as if he was invisible. Talking about things in a manner like _Eh? Captain is absent today? Iwaizumi, do you know what happened to him?_ and _Maybe he got sick? I didn't know idiots can get sick too._

They had Yahaba be their starting setter for practice. Tooru just satat the sidelines, trying to bother his lowerclassmen. Kindaichi almost cracked, but Kunimi stopped him in time.

Then at the end of the day, finally acknowledged his existence by slamming a birthday cake in his face.

_This is supposed to be no different, right?_

_Really_ , Tooru thinks to himself grimly. _Your pranks are getting boring. Too overused._

He can swear that the two are sniggering into their hands behind his back right now.

But the thought does now calm him down at all, and his heart still thumps loudly in his chest, like a bird trapped in a house, frantically trying to burst out.

_BA-DUM. BA-DUM.BA-DUM._

The bird smashes repeatedly on the window, as if when it had done the action enough times, a path will emerge.

* * *

 

06.

Tooru dashes. The scenery blurs into a background that stretches out an endless canvas. He remembers the path, remembers it too well. He'd grown up here. It's all he ever knew.

He stills, and lets out a short breath of relief. There where he _knows by heart_ , sat Iwaizumi's house.

If there's anyone who would remember him, it's his childhood best friend's family. Tooru has been there countless of times, play dates, sleepovers, study sessions, the list goes on and on.

There is a sudden surge of comfort when he reaches out and rings the doorbell.

It doesn't matter what the guys in the team do, at least their parents are definitely not part of the stupid trick.

_It's stupid, getting so disturbed by a simple harmless joke._ Tooru laughs at himself.

"Hello." his best friend's mother greets the door with a warm smile, and Tooru can't help but feel welcomed. Iwa- _chan_ 's mother was always kind to Tooru, sneaking him bits of cookies to bring home, and letting him feel at home all the time.

He opens his mouth to speak-

"Are you lost, dear?"

His heart sinks.

"Oh." he fidgets with the hem of his sweater, "I was just-I came here from school-"

"Ah!" she cries out. "Are you here for Hajime? I'm sorry, he's left for school already." she tells him. "And you should be too, dear, if you don't want to be late. Look at you! You're not even dressed properly yet." she teases.

Tooru stands there, dumbfounded. He must look ridiculous right now, he thinks.

"Boy?"

He snaps back into reality, and squeezes out his charming smile. "I'm fine, thank you. I'm just at the wrong door."

She looks somewhat relieved. "Is that so? Okay then, have a good day."

The door closes.

It's the second time that day that he got a door slammed into his face, but it didn't baffle him any less than the first.

* * *

 

07.

Tooru sinks into the bench.

It's a nearby park. One he used to play at with Iwa- _chan._ Back in the days when they just started to play volleyball, catching stag beetles from trees.

He doesn't know for how long he just sits there, watching the tiny kids play in the sand box, giggling up and down the slides.

His mouth tastes a bit bitter.

What next? Does he go to Iwa- _chan_? Iwa- _chan_ is at school, and there is no way he's going back there any time soon. Besides, who's to say he wasn't part of the joke too, with his _mother_ participating too.

Tooru's mouth tugs downward. he closes his eyes, and sighs.

He doesn't want to consider about it too much.

The world is playing a mean trick on him, he knows this for certain.

_Maybe his brain is misleading him. Doing all sorts of nasty things to Tooru. Or maybe he is just dreaming._

* * *

 

08.

He supposes it means that he gets a day off. Until his brain returns normal. Or until he wakes up, at least.

Tooru hops off from the bench, startling a few birds nearby. They flutter, squawking off into the sky.

Tooru grimaces.

He doesn't know how he manages to remain so calm. Maybe some rebellious part of him still refuses to believe what is presented to him yet.

He isn't about to give up any time soon.

He starts looking for any trace of his existence. Any proof of him left in this small place he called his hometown.

Tooru goes around the streets he has long since memorized. He recalls lazy afternoons, anyone could find the boy hanging around the bookstore, a sports magazine in hand, or that nice quaint cafe, sipping on a rich cup of coffee. But most of the time, he's out on the outdoor volleyball court, serving the ball again and again, trying to get his control pinpointed down.

The manager of the court doesn't know him, even though he comes by every Saturday afternoon, and stays for a good two hours practicing alone.

The baristas don't remember the scandalously long orders that is starting to be part serious, part joke. They don't remember the customer they like to mess around with, don't remember the drink they made just for his strange tastes: the _Oikawa Tooru Special_.

The bookstore cashier doesn't recognize him. The cashier that accompanied his comically long time squinting at the pictures of Ushijima Wakatoshi in the Volleyball Weekly magazines and trash-talking about Shiratorizawa.

"Excuse me," his smile is wavering. "Can I have a copy of Volleyball Weekly?"

"I'm sorry. We're all sold out."

Tooru thanks him, and turns away, not wanting to let anyone see his face crash.

It is the cashier that always used to save an extra copy of Volleyball Weekly for him.

* * *

 

09.

He gets an issue at the convenience store after all. (He is surprised when he find some money in the pockets his jeans.) The world is different, but according to the magazine, the time remains the same. If that is the case, then they have just finished the Miyaji prefectures for the Spring High Tournament.

Tooru flips the pages open. Sees Ushiwaka's face. Refrains himself from ripping the page off.

He goes a little further, past Karasuno and got to Seijoh. There, on the panel that _should have his face on it_ , isn't him. Tooru stares. His childhood friend's face stares right back at him.

Tooru is shaking, his mind running fast, trying to come up with _some kind of explanation_.

_Maybe the camera people couldn't find him, so settled for the vice captain instead._ _Maybe-_

He knows that those aren't it.

He's been wiped from this world, but he doesn't understand _why_.

* * *

 

10.

There's no point in trying to convince himself that Tooru is just dreaming. A long and dreadful nightmare, and when he wakes up, he'll be back in the _normal world._ The world where he lives in his house, where he is the captain of the Seijoh volleyball club.

He knows it. For real.

But he doesn't want to accept it.

His vision is blurring. How lame. He feels like one of those protagonists that are always finding themselves in the most bizarre situations in movies. The exact kind of movie he always mocks.

Tooru blinks hard, wanting to banish the tears that are starting to pool in his eyes. It doesn't help. If anything, it just quickens the process.

His mouth tastes like bile, and he thinks that he might puke. There is something stirring at the pit of his stomach, inflating bigger and bigger, up to the tip of his throat. He feels dizzy. The world is spinning and spinning and he is left alone.

Tooru buries his face into his arms. He curls up into a ball, hugging himself closer, as if he is still cold. (He isn't. The afternoon is a lot better than the morning. Even the sun came out sometime during his nonstop search for...well, himself.)

Behind the lids of his eyes, there is just blackness, and for once, Tooru finds it comforting. Hiding here in the darkness, he doesn't have to bear a world where it feels like he doesn't really exist.

* * *

 

11.

"Geh, Oikawa Tooru?"

With the sudden jerk of his head, he thinks it's a wonder that his neck doesn't snap. It isn't even been that long yet, but he feels like it's been _years_ since someone last calls out his name.

"I-"

The sun is dipping low into the horizon, drenching the view in a blotchy orange hue.

He haven't realized that it was already near to the evening.

There stands Futakuchi Kenji, wearing his school uniform, hand stuffed in his pockets. He appears to be in a good mood, eyes shining. There is a frustrating trademark smirk on his face. He clicks his tongue lightly. "Ahh, so it _is_ you. What is it up with that sweater?"

A spurt of indescribable emotion bubbles up Tooru's chest, blocking his vocal cords. He opens his mouth, but not a single sound comes out.

Futakuchi makes a face. "Please speak a human language. I don't understand _alien_." he peers at the other teen's sweater.

Tooru feels his face prickling hot. He knows his cheeks must be aflame at the moment.

"What? Say something. It's not like you to be this quiet, you usually always have something smart to retort."

His eyes well up. So much for holding back his stupid stupid overwhelming tears.

Tooru surges forward, and pulls himself up by yanking on Futakuchi's arm. He ignores the other boy's protest, throwing his arms around the brunette. His nose starts to run as he digs his face into Futakuchi's shoulder, hungrily sniffing for any single trace of humane warmth.

Futakuchi yelps, and it is actually sort of funny. "What are you doing?" he hisses. "Have you finally lost your mind?" Then he seemingly just figured out that the older boy is already in tears. It results in the boy coughing awkwardly.

"I-Do you need anything? Darn, this is new." Futakuchi mutters, distress lacing heavily in his voice. "I've never had to comfort a crying arch nemesis before. Are you okay? Please stop crying. I don't know what I'm supposed to do here."

Tooru laughs through his sobs and he stifles a snort. "This is fine." he finally says. "Just let me hold on for a while."

"Oh. So you haven't gone mute." Futakuchi teases. "Do you need me to pat your back and tell you that everything will be alright?"

The brunette huffs with a ragged breath. "That will be great, thanks." He hides his smile when he hears the other boy splutter.

* * *

 

12.

"So, what's going on?" Futakuchi asked Tooru when he finally calmed down enough. "Not that I don't appreciate being a kind consultant, but being locked in a death hug from one of your not-really-friends who is the same gender as you is really trippy."

Tooru glowers at him, but due to the rim of his eyes still being red, it really doesn't look nearly as menacing as he would like it to be. "You can rest your mind then." he shoots back. "It won't happen again. I was just slightly distorted."

"Over what? You look majorly freaked out. What? Saw a ghost?"

"Kind of."

Futakuchi raises an eyebrow.

"It's...hard to explain." Tooru says. "Complicated."

"So are you going to start talking or do I have to use my secret super powers to read your mind?"

"It's easier to just show you." Tooru tells him, and hands him the now wrinkled copy of Volleyball Weekly.

The boy looks at it strangely. "What are you trying to say? I've read this already."

"Flip to page thirteen." he says.

Futakuchi obliges. Big block letters that reads AOBA JOHSAI meets his burning gaze.

The boy sighs. He looks up at Tooru. "What are you trying to say here? It's your team, I get it. You beat my team, blah blah blah. What's your point?"

"Look at the player list." he hints.

"Huh?"

 

#1    Iwaizumi Hajime  Captain/ Wing Spiker       3rd Year

 

Futakuchi raises his head. "Where did you go?" he inquires. "Shying away from captain responsibilities, are you?"

Tooru shoots him a glare and shakes his head. "I don't know." he says bluntly.

"Maybe it's a typo?"

"It's not." he insists.

"Explain."

Tooru studies him. He wonders how he should put his story. It is absurd, now when he thinks back about it.

"You can't laugh." he says crossly.

Futakuchi rolls his eyes. " _Please,_ even I'm not _that_ inconsiderate. I can _tell_ something is off. I just need you to tell me _what_ that thing is."

"I've been wiped off." he rushes. "I don't know why, or how it started, but when I realized, I can't find my home where it used to be, I can't find any influence I inflicted upon those around me, and no one remembers me. Except for you."

"Excuse me?"

He looks at Futakuchi steadily. "You're the only one who can still recall 'Oikawa Tooru'."

* * *

 

13.

"What's the last thing you remember doing?"

"Are you trying to play detective here?"

Futakuchi shrugs. "Someone has to. Do you never want to get back to normal again?"

"Of course I do!" Tooru scoffs, "But how does it help us?"

"Gathering the facts never hurt anyone."

He ponders upon that. "I don't remember much. I remember losing to Karasuno." his voice turns sharp and bitter at this. "I remember going back to school. I remember having an afterwards meeting. I had to say things to the team, because I am their captain, after all." he says, more to himself than to Futakuchi. "We played good. I know that. But it isn't enough. And although we third years won't be around anymore, at least we have to make sure our kouhai are completely capable of kicking some crow ass next year."

"Dream on. You won't be able to play Karasuno because they'll lose to _us_ first."

Tooru sighs. "Can we just agree on the fact that both our team demands blood from Karasuno?"

Futakuchi cocks his head to the side. "I can live with that. What else?"

"I don't remember anything else."

"You don't?"

"No."

"Okay." Futakuchi brushes off his knees, standing up. "Let's go."

Tooru stares at him dumbly. "Where are we going?"

"Duh." Futakuchi gives him a glare. "We're going to find out why you disappeared."

"How?"

"Iwaizumi- _san_ , of course."

"But-" Tooru scrambles to get up, stumbling behind the other teen. "I've been to his house already."

"Did you talk to him?" the younger boy throws him an unimpressed look.

"Well, no-"

"Then what are we waiting for?" Futakuchi grabs him by the wrist and pushes him forward. "Here, you lead. I have absolutely no idea where he lives."

* * *

 

14.

Tooru gawks at him in amazement as the two shuffle down roads. "Why are you helping me?" he whispers. It is so soft it almost gets lost in the winds.

"Isn't it obvious?" Futakuchi responds automatically. "It would be awfully inconsiderate. A world without you is just too strange. Such an utopia isn't meant to exist. Also, I'm not going to just leave a boy _crying_."

Tooru shoots him a nasty look. "Can't you be a bit _nicer_ here? You're not the one experiencing this trauma. For all you know, you could've been crazy your entire life, and Oikawa Tooru never existed in the first place."

"Do you want me to help or not?"

"Sorry." he murmurs. His eyes light up. They take one last left turn, and Tooru finds himself back in front of the house he left in a hurry that morning, desperate to escape from the false reality he didn't understand.

"Here we are." he says simply.

Futakuchi looks at the doorplate. IWAIZUMI. He spares a quick glance to the boy beside him. "Hey, are you okay?"

"Yes." Tooru breathes. "Go on."

Futakuchi presses the button on the door. It emits a clear sound that mimics a bird's chirp.

"Hello-" Iwaizumi's mother is at the door again, just like a few hours ago. She pauses. "You're a student from Date Kougyou?" she asks Futakuchi, after reading the words on his uniform.

"Yes." he replies. "Hello, Iwaizumi- _san_."

"And you," she gapes a little. "Aren't you the boy from earlier?"

"Um, yes." Tooru shies away, trying to cover up his face.

Her voice is friendly though, and it radiates kindness. "You changed back into your clothes after school? You love them this much?"

All he returns is a forced smile. "Is Iwa- _ch_ , I mean, Iwaizumi Hajime- _kun_ home?"

The lady's face softens. She turns back inside. "Hajime! We have guests for you!" she calls out.

Some footsteps follow the sound, leading from the floor above heads. Before long, the black-haired teen arrives at the front porch. "Who-" his voice falters at the sight of the duo.

"You boys have fun." his mother says, going back inside. "If you're not going to go outside, please close the door soon."

* * *

 

15.

Iwaizumi waits until she is out of earshot. He settles his gaze on the boys.

"Can you please get the door?"

Tooru closes the door. It slides shut with a tiny _click_.

"I'm sorry? I don't know what you want." he tells them. "Aren't you the captain of Datekou?" he looks at Futakuchi.

The brunette nods. "Iwaizumi- _san_." he greets. "We are here to ask for your assistance."

"Assistance on what? And who are _you_?" he scrunches up his eyebrows, as if trying to fish up a long-forgotten memory.

Tooru goes silent.

"He's your best friend." Futakuchi inserts. "Oikawa Tooru."

"My-" the teen scans their faces for any trace of a joke. There is none. He looks revolted.

"I know this all sounds weird and you're probably thinking about calling the cops but please." Futakuchi says quickly before anyone can do anything. "Hear us out. And _then_ you can decided whether to call the cops or not. My personal vote is on not."

Iwaizumi gives him a funny look. He looks like he is debating upon himself about something. Finally he says, "I'm going to assume for the moment that neither of you are deranged. So this sounds like it is going to take a long time to sort out. Why don't you two come upstairs?"

* * *

 

16.

"Speak."

Futakuchi gives Tooru a tiny nudge. The older boy shakes his head. He doesn't know if he can speak properly at the moment. He has been dodging this encounter the whole day, purposely not getting in his way, avoiding his everyday paths. He dreads for the meeting to arrive, because while he has accepted that the world no longer admits his presence, it doesn't mean that the single thought of acting like total strangers with the boy he'd gown up with doesn't make his heart clench in pain.

He doesn't know whether he can still be okay if Iwa- _chan_ doesn't recognize him. The idea is earth-shattering.

Tooru may be holding it together now, but he thinks it's because that Futakuchi is there, keeping him grounded. The last bit of connection he has with the rest of the world. The anchor that keeps him at bay, the string that keeps his kite from floating off into the sky.

He takes in a shaky breath.

Iwa- _chan_ is looking at him oddly. "Hey. You okay?"

Tooru doesn't answer.

He turns to Futakuchi instead. "Is he okay?"

"Probably not." the brunette says slowly. He glances at Tooru briefly. "Do you want me to explain things?"

"No." he says quickly, "I'm fine." he tucks his feet under his legs, changing his position so he is sitting cross-legged. "It's just...you haven't had the experience of having suddenly left all by yourself, have you? It's weird." his tone is sour mixed with a twinge of a jeer, directed more at himself than anyone else. "There wasn't even a sign, and today when I woke up nobody knows me anymore. People I interact with every other day, classmates, teammates, now, even my best friend I've known since childhood, apparently."

"You mean, me?"

Tooru laughs out loud. His throat feels a bit dry.

"By that," Futakuchi adds in helpfully, "he means _yes, you._ For some reason Mr. What-do-you-mean-I'm-blocking-the-view-I- _am_ -the-view here likes to communicate with an excessive amount of drama and strange metaphors, along with a snarky remark no one asked for here and there."

Tooru shoves him.

Futakuchi sticks out a tongue at him.

The black-haired boy regards them both calmly. "Okay. Let me get this straight. You are my best friend?"

He nods.

His childhood friend let out a shallow breath. "And when you woke up this morning no one remembers you anymore."

He nods again.

"Except him." he jerks his head in Futakuchi's direction.

"Right."

"So. How do I know that this is not some kind of practical joke?"

Futakuchi coughs. "No offence Iwaizumi- _san_ , but I don't think I know you well enough for that."

"Fine. Then what do you need me for?"

"You're his best friend. Or rather, might have been, in your case. We thought you might be able to help us figure out why this happened, and how to fix it."

"Fair enough." the boy nods thoughtfully. "Where do you suggest we start?"

"I'm sorry." Tooru says promptly, "But would you mind it if we take a look at your photo album?"

"My what?"

* * *

 

17.

"What are you trying to find?" Futakuchi asks him softly, dropping down silently beside him.

Tooru runs his fingers over the spine, his touch lingering at the bottom. "We were almost inseparable as kids." he says. "We did everything together, naturally we took a lot of pictures together too. I'm wondering what happened to those, if I were not part of his life."

Iwaizumi is sitting by his own desk, nose buried in one of those heavy practice books. _Why are you studying? It's Friday night. Live a little._ Futakuchi asked him. _Just because you have the time to walk around all day doesn't mean I do too._

_Leave it,_ Tooru told him, _He's in college prep classes. It's like he can't even live without school work anymore._

"So? What did you find?"

Tooru hands him the photo album wordlessly. Futakuchi takes a look.

"You're not in here."

"Obviously. I have eyes too, Futakuchi- _chan_."

"But it's strange. These photos of his earlier childhood-Iwaizumi- _san_ is rarely in the center of the photos. And sometimes he's not even looking at the camera."

"I told you, he took most of those pictures with me."

"Iwaizumi- _san_." Futakuchi calls out. "What is it up with these photos?"

"Huh?"

"Look. What's supposed to be here? That painfully obvious space over there?"

"I don't-"

There it is, an ugly gap in the smack middle. The little boy on the picture appears to be pointing at the air, laughing. But he was completely alone.

"I remember this one." Tooru says softly. "We were eight. It wasn't long before we first started to play volleyball." he laughs, having remembered something. "We were really bad back then. Iwa- _chan_ used to make fun of me whenever I make a mistake."

"Iwaizumi- _san_?"

Iwaizumi is quiet.

"This...I don't remember anymore." he has an odd look in his eyes. "I don't-"

"Please try." Futakuchi says to him seriously. "Anything at all. Anything you think that may help, just tell us."

The boy looks down at his own feet. "ね，" he says. "You said you were my best friend?"

Tooru nods.

"I mean...I wouldn't know. Because I can't remember anything about you. But I think... What is the last thing you remember doing?"

"I remember losing to Karasuno." he states simply.

Iwaizumi stiffens at that.

"I remember heading home." he shakes his head. "That's it."

"How did you feel?"

"I didn't realize I'm in a therapy session." Tooru can't help it. His voice sounds too sharp, even to his own ears.

"We're trying to help you here." Futakuchi kicks at him.

He twiddles with his fingers. "I was upset. A bit distraught. I know they're strong, but still... That last ball, I could've saved it. I saw where chibi- _chan_ was aiming for, but I wasn't fast enough. These hands were the last pair that touched the ball before the game was set."

"Okay."

"I wasn't really thinking much after that."

"And when you were heading home?" Iwaizumi's gaze is level.

Tooru's mouth twitches downwards. "I don't know. And for some reason I don't really want to know."

"Why don't you want to know?"

"I-"

"Ahh, am I interrupting something?" Iwaizumi's mother twists the doorknob open. "You boys are still here? Well, let me know soon if you are staying over?"

"Oh, that won't be necessary." Futakuchi quips, getting to his feet quickly. "I have to be getting home soon anyway. I guess I'll see you guys around?"

"Wait!" Tooru reaches out his arm, scrambling up. "I-"

"Take your time, there's no rush." Iwaizumi- _san_ closes the door behind her back. "Just let me know soon!"

"What?" Futakuchi asks him. "You don't want to stay with your best friend?"

"It's just-"

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes. "Go with him. He knows you better than I do, honestly. I won't be much help. He's your bigger chance. Besides, you're easier around him."

Tooru blushes red. "I am _not_." He shoots daggers at Futakuchi, who is wearing a _huge_ grin on his face. "Stop smiling like that."

"Wow!" Futakuchi bats his eyelashes melodramatically. "I never knew I held such a high place in your heart."

"You're a brat."

Futakuchi laughs. "Are you coming or not?"

"Seriously? I'm allowed to come with?" Tooru widens his eyes.

"Of course!" he spares a glance to Iwaizumi. "Hey, you okay with that?"

The boy shrugs. "Sure."

"Thank you for all your help." Tooru says genuinely.

"Don't sweat it." he grinned good-naturedly.

"Let's go, princess." Futakuchi waves him over. He gives Iwaizumi a salute. "Maybe another time."

"Maybe."

* * *

 

18.

"Hey. What do you think will happen?"

"Huh?"

They are walking down a street together when Tooru shoots the question. Futakuchi stops kicking the tiny pebble he has been keeping for ten minutes.

"When we find out the cause of this. What happens then? Do I go back? Will anything happen at all?"

Futakuchi chortles. "Are you afraid?"

"Hard not to." he replies, surprisingly devoid of any hint of bite, like he's accepted anything that will be coming his way. "Who knows? I could be _dead_ for all I know. Maybe I'm in a coma, and this is one of those delirious death-bed dreams."

"I find it insulting that you seem to believe that it is possible to recreate my one of a kind personality with any mind other than my own."

Tooru winces. "Right. I know I'm not _that_ much of a prick by _your_ standards."

"What are you worrying about? Maybe nothing bad will happen. Maybe you'll go back to the world where everyone remembers you."

" _What did you say?_ "

"I said-"

"Go back...to the world where everyone remembers me. The world where... What you're saying is this is a different universe. It's not the one I came from."

Futakuchi scrunches up his brows. "Hmm. I never thought about it this way. Are you suggesting that you came from some sort of alternate reality?"

"If that's the case, it was never about getting people to remember again," Tooru breathes. "It's about getting _back_!"

"Wait." Futakuchi says, his voice smaller than usual. "So you mean you'll be _leaving this_ world?"

"What good is this world? I don't exist. Not according to anybody here."

"You exist. According to me."

"What?" he decides to poke a little fun. "Are you really going to miss me?"

Futakuchi stammers. "I mean, of course not! I'd have less of a pain to deal with. But you know... if you don't actually exist in this universe, then I would be..." he blushes a bit. "What would _I_ be left with? I'd be like a mad man! The only person who remembers someone that never existed in the first place."

"There's Iwa- _chan_." he says quietly.

"He doesn't remember you. Not the things you did together and all that."

"I know _I'll_ miss you." he chirps. "Back there, you weren't so considerate."

Futakuchi gives a look of disbelief.

"What?" he laughs. "It's true! And the you back there won't even know about this whole fiasco. So we'd be back like acquaintances that don't like each other very much."

"What makes you think _we're_ not like that?"

"I like to think that this ordeal brought us closer on a spiritual level."

"Maybe for _you_." Futakuchi shoots back pointedly.

"Well... This has to end." Tooru says. "Don't think too hard. If it eases your mind, we don't know for _sure_ that this is some other universe yet. Might just be that first thing where everyone in this world has a bad case of amnesia. Okay?"

"Yeah. Okay. We're going to get you back."Futakuchi lets out a low breath, but he looks much happier. "We're still missing a big piece of this. Think about it. What really happened yesterday?"

Tooru throws his hands up in the air helplessly. "I already said that I don't remember. Why don't we change the perspective huh? What were _you_ doing?"

Futakuchi looks startled. "Me?"

"Yeah? What were you doing yesterday?"

"Why does _that_ matter?"

"Well, that's when everything went crazy."

"Not for me."

Tooru huffs. "Think about it. You remember me. Before today, according to you, everyone else does too. Why do you think it changed?"

Futakuchi frowns.

Tooru gives a tiny pout. "Come on! Even if it's nothing important! I got my fair share of emotional outings, _you_ share something."

"Fine." he gives an exasperated huff, but his eyes betrays his amusement.

 

"I was walking home..."

* * *

 

19.

_He's not particularly feeling anything on the way home, but he feels like taking a different path than usual. So he lets his feet lead him, without much of a goal in mind._

_The paths are narrow and unfamiliar, but somehow he isn't worried._

_He twists into another alleyway._

_"Is that...?" he mutters to himself._

_Sure enough, on the middle of the street kneels Oikawa Tooru. He appears to be having a stare-down with a white fluffy kitten._

_He snorts. "What a girl. The kitten whisperer?"_

_Futakuchi starts to turn away. He is not too keen on having to strike up any type of conversation with Oikawa Tooru._

_But then at the edge of his eyes, he sees it, a speeding truck, making a sharp turn at the end of their alley. It doesn't seem to have any sign of slowing down._

_The alarms in his head starts ringing off. His legs are moving, fast._

_"Oi-" the words doesn't get out in time._

* * *

 

20.

"I remember now. " Tooru exhales. "You were there too."

* * *

 

21.

_The moment the whistle blows, the game is set._

_Cheers break out from the other side of the net. The other team is screaming, laughing, crying. They are grinning so wide, they are ugly red scars across their faces, the color of blood, washing over his world, flooding..._

_But he doesn't hear anything._

_Not the uproar of the audience in the stands, not their opponents' celebration._

_The only sound is the whispers of dread looming above his side of the court. It takes over all his senses. He sees darkness, hears the blood rushing in his veins. The smell of rot fills his nostrils, and he represses the urge to puke. His skin feels heavy, like there are thousands of pounds pressuring him. His tongue tastes the sourness of failure._

_"          " Someone says something. He doesn't react._

_But he is still captain._

_So he stands up for his team._

_He looks over the net, and from the opposite side, Tobio looks back at him._

_He doesn't know much after that._

_He's the captain._

_The pile up into their school bus. Everyone is silent._

_He's the captain, and he's aware of that._

_So he tells himself that he has to be over it by the time they get back to school._

_The reasonable part of his mind does, but his heart doesn't feel like it's quiet recovered yet._

_He manages through the meeting._

_He marvels at himself, how he is able to still stay calm and collected, despite everything._

_He knows he just lost the final game of his high-school days. It makes him wistful._

_He thinks about his kouhai from junior high-school. The genius. He always knew one day he would be surpassed, but he didn't expect it to happen so soon. After all the time he spent practicing, wrecking his right knee in the process. He thinks of the hours he spent alone, serving ball after ball until his palms are red and raw and numb, just so he could master the technique._

_Tobio never slacks off. He knows it is why he is already catching up at unnerving speed._

_He supposes he'll have to practice even more, then. Let his experience sway to his advantage. He thinks he might go to see the final game tomorrow. To laugh at the losing team._

_He doesn't understand it when his tears fall._

_His body moves faster than his mind. Before he notices, he's already a street away from his house._

_The cat catches him off guard._

_He kneels down, looking at it in the eye. The small ball of fur purrs, and flinches away. The muscles of its back legs are tense, ready to bolt at any second._

_He sighs, and smiles wryly. The kitten reminds him of himself, in a way. It looks cautious, and tired. He sees his own exhaustion reflecting in its eyes._

_Standing up, he dusts off his knees. The cat follows him with its gaze curiously._

_He gives a tiny wave before straightening his spine, stretching his limbs out. He thinks he should be heading home now._

_That's when the truck slams into him._

* * *

 

22.

That's when the truck slams into _the_ _m._

* * *

 

[Ending Ver 1-In which Oikawa gets back](https://thebottomlesspitofbottomlessness.tumblr.com/private/157979241532/tumblr_oma6loOvBN1vi4bc1)

[Ending Ver 2- In which Oikawa doesn't get back](https://thebottomlesspitofbottomlessness.tumblr.com/private/157979268562/tumblr_oma6qfjhUJ1vi4bc1)

**Author's Note:**

> Come scream to me on tumblr at @thebottomlesspitofbottomlessness  
> Comments and Kudos are greatly appreciated!!!  
> I always thought it was cool to write double endings so here you go. Did y'all get the ending you were looking for? : )


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